


Kissed By Fire, Held By Snow

by softfawnangel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Jon Snow, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, Jon Snow is a Stark, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Virginity, Parent Death, Sex In A Cave, Sexual Tension, Sweet/Hot, Ygritte Lives, Ygritte has a pet dire wolf, as in like he is a stark bastard (probably benjens), jongritte, like so much sexual tension, ygritte gets an origin story lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:13:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softfawnangel/pseuds/softfawnangel
Summary: Ygritte never though family was real. That is until she found Jon.





	1. Chapter 1

“C’mon love, gotta keep up if you’re gonna get anythin’ good for dinner” A tall, red headed woman spoke to her eight-year-old daughter. Nyria was only twenty two, leading her eight year old daughter through waist deep snow. She had spotted a buck running past this way and was following its tracks. It couldn’t be far; the falling snow would have covered them up by now if they weren’t fresh. She had a feeling that she and her daughter would eat very well tonight, provided all goes well with this afternoon’s hunt.

She wanted to train her eight-year-old daughter, Ygritte, to hunt. It was a skill that all free folk needed to know, for they couldn’t live off of their mother’s breasts forever. Ygritte had been weaned off her mother at three, and while she had food brought for her to eat up until that point, Nyria was never sure when her little girl would need to fend for herself. Be it because of a savage animal, another wildling clan kidnapping her, the Night’s Watch or white walkers, she knew her daughter could lose her at any time. 

The Northern side of the wall was a blizzarding no man’s land, and people rarely lived long.

The animal stopped, seemingly digging for some cold grass beneath the deep snow. Nyria saw her chance and took out her bow. However, she wanted her daughter to have this glory. Ygritte had practiced shooting at trees and small animals, and she’d grown to be quite skilled. The little wildling was a real prodigy with a bow, and Nyria would be so proud to witness her daughter’s first big kill.

“Now little one, take your bow...” Nyria guided her daughter by example, nocking her bow and taking aim. “Like this, see?”

“Mum, I got it!” Ygritte insisted, somewhat clumsily grabbing an arrow from her quiver. 

Nyria chuckled, watching her nock and pull the bowstring.

“Alright, now...on three, I want you to let go. Got it?” Nyria stood back a little to let her concentrate.

“Got it!” The fiery little girl responded, licking her lips in anticipation of this kill.

“Okay, one...two…”

Ygritte saw the deer run away before the end of the countdown, but that was the least of her worries. Lying in the snow, was her mother with an arrow in her back.

“Mum?” She lowered her aim and loosened her pull on the bowstring. The white snow was pooling red, and a figure about twenty feet away was holding a bow. It wasn’t another wildling; his attire suggested he was a brother of the Night’s Watch. 

“Mum…” She was quiet and worried, only able to see her mother breathing shallowly. She turned her over, but this drove the arrow deeper into her back. Ygritte didn’t know what to do. She was disoriented, so scared. Her head turned to the figure, her concern for her mother quickly turning into blind, guttural rage. 

“Why…” She spoke, her eyes burning with angry tears. She hated this man for what he had done, for ripping her mother away from her. “Why, crow?”

No response was given. The man began to turn away, as if nothing had happened. He either hadn’t heard her, or simply didn’t care.

Ygritte felt it must be the latter, and in retaliation and blind rage, she aimed her bow, gritting her teeth. She didn’t crave sustenance as much as she did revenge.

Without another word, without even blinking or flinching, she fired. The arrow flew true, and shot right into his chest. The man sunk to his knees, without a single sound excluding the thud of the brother’s body falling into the powdery snow.

“It’s okay mum, he’s dead.” She spoke, kneeling down by her mother, who lied on the ground. She had not yet passed, but she was fading. “I made my first kill, just like I said I would…”

Nyria reached a shaky hand into her coat. “Ygritte…” She could barely speak. “Hold..out..your hand…”

Ygritte held out her mitten-clad hands, as a small object wrapped in a rabbit hide was presented to her.

“This...this will protect you…” Nyria spoke. 

“Please don’t leave me…” Ygritte pocketed the small pouch and hugged her mother. “Mum...you’re cold!”

The little wildling began to cry. “You’ll freeze!”

“Ygritte...listen to me…” Nyria spoke, her voice quiet and almost hoarse.

“I don’t want you to freeze!” Ygritte sobbed. “I don’t want you to go!”

“You must stay strong…there is a fire...in your soul” Nyria’s face grew paler, and her lips began to turn blue from the frosty environment. “Keep it burning…”  
With that, her eyes shut.

“Mum? Come on, wake up!” Ygritte began to cry. “If you sleep in the snow, you’ll freeze!”

Ygritte couldn’t face the reality of her mother’s passing. She lied her beside her, trying to share body heat, but her mother was cold. Lifeless. Gone. She laid there, crying as she came to the bitter realization.  
She must’ve been there a few hours By sunset, she rose up. She had to burn her mother’s body as she often saw other bodies burnt. This was to prevent the body from becoming a wight, as white walkers couldn’t use burnt bodies for that purpose. Ygritte couldn’t imagine how terrifying it would be for her mother to become one, so though it pained her, and it would be hard, she had to burn her mother’s body.

Gathering wood was relatively easy. At first she just pulled sticks from trees, and pushed large logs to form the base of the pyre. She spent a good portion of the earlier evening gathering sticks and wood. She would have to have enough wood to effectively burn the body to the point where it couldn’t be used as a wight.

The hardest part was getting Nyria’s body onto the pyre. Finding wood and pushing heavy fallen trees was nothing compared to this. Her mother was tall, around 5’9, so she was relatively heavy for a child to pick up. A child shouldn’t have to pick up her mother’s dead body at all, but the world was cruel. Ygritte knew this now, and within about ten minutes, Ygritte managed to get Nyria’s body onto the pyre. 

She looked at her a moment. Something was missing. Ygritte saw a beautiful blue flower, sprouting through the snow against all odds. She picked it out of the ground and laid it in her mother’s cold hands.  
She found some flint to light the pyre, striking them together and creating a spark to light the wooden bier aflame. She watched as it was completely engulfed in the fire. It was warm, almost comforting.

She gazed into the flames of the burning pyre, her face stone and void of emotion. She was sad, but she wouldn’t cry. She took the pouch out and opened it, finding a necklace within. A small black shard that appeared to be obsidian or glass served as a pendant. She put it around her neck, deciding from this point she would always wear it in honor of her mother.

“I’ll be strong, mum.” She spoke, standing with her shoulders back. “I promise.”


	2. Ten Years Later

Many moons had passed since the passing of Nyria. Ygritte missed her, but she had learned to move on, to not rely on anyone. As she grew up, she stuck around with other groups of wildlings very rarely. She would sometimes insert herself into one in order to gain something from them, like food or protection. However, she never stayed for long. She didn’t trust them enough to stay.

Ygritte had met a group of free folk like herself and had been staying with them for a week, seeing as they were providing her with food. They hated the brothers of the Night’s Watch almost as much as she did. 

“Hey, so you ain’t gonna believe what I’se found” Thoya, a younger girl in the group. She was a tiny waif of a girl; thin as a stick, with thin blonde hair. Her teeth were crooked, and her eyes were a light hazel. She was plain looking, but looks were not much of an issue here. She was only around fifteen, but she seemed to be one of the braver of the free folk in the group.

“Oh? Go on, tell us then!” Spoke Gralsa, the leader of the group. She was older, for a wildling, around forty. She was a beast of a woman, tall, bulky, with dark brown eyes and black hair. Her face was weather-worn and scarred, but as a young woman, she would’ve been considered quite pretty. She was often referred to by free folk who knew of her as Gralsa the Manslayer for her brutality. She never took prisoners. “Spit it out, girl!”

“I’se seen a group ‘a crows, Gralsa. Three a’ em. They’se campin’ for the night bout a mile away” Thoya held up three fingers. 

Gralsa smiled, revealing she was missing a canine tooth. Ygritte had seen this woman dig her teeth into the throat of a man who tried to attack her, and saw the tooth ripped out from the sheer force of her bite in combination with the man trying to pull her off. She was one terrifying woman. Ygritte couldn’t bring herself to trust her. 

Grasla also had a reputation for killing those in her group that she deemed weak. Ygritte had seen her kill a girl just last week for not being able to keep up with them, and while she acted as if she wasn’t phased, it made her worry she would not be strong enough to stay. She wasn’t weak by any standard, but she still worried it may not be enough. She was ever fearful, ever on her toes, ready to run if things got rough for her. 

Still, she was happy to have met a group of people who despised the crows, ones who wished to exact revenge. Sure, many of the free folk hated them, but not as much as Ygritte and this band of bloodthirsty girls.

“Well, then we oughta ambush them. Make them pay” Grasla grabbed her club, standing up to reveal she truly towered over even the tallest in the group. 

“Mhm, spill their blood. Let it paint the snow red!” Exclaimed Jonvil, a particularly vocal one of them. She was missing an eye and had very thin hair that fell out in clumps quite often.

Grasla put a finger to her lips to hush the group.

“We move now--” She was interrupted by Ygritte.

“Are you mad? They’ll be on their guard!” The redhead exclaimed. “If we move now, we’ll all die!”

Ygritte didn’t want to die, especially by the hands of a crow. She didn’t care if Grasla was scary, she still had to speak her mind.

“Silence, girl!” Grasla spoke, glaring daggers at Ygritte. “We attack now. Crows must die. You said so yourself”

Ygritte sighed. This was a horrible decision, but she knew the consequences of standing up further. Grasla would maim her.

“Yes, that's true, but we must be silent.” She whispered. “Or they’ll hear us…”

Thoya nodded in agreement and took her bow, following behind Grasla. The group of four arrived near the camp and hid.

“We attack when I say” Grasla spoke. “Nock your bows, Ygritte and Thoya, be ready. Crows shall die today”

Ygritte nocked, looking at the group of men from behind a large rock. There were only three; two young, and one older. The older one was clearly the leader; they addressed him as “lord commander”, and he seemed like a real stickler. The younger two were much more interesting than he. One was short-- well, by wilding standards. He had to only meet 5’8 and was heavyset. Still, he seemed like a really sweet kid. She’d almost feel guilty to kill him, considering he didn’t seem the type to be violent. He seemed harmless, hardly a crow.

The second young man really sparked her interest. He was handsome, tall, with thick and curly black hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was muscular too by the looks of it-- a real prize if a girl’s ever gotten him in bed. 

‘It’d be a pity to kill him!’ She thought to herself. ‘He’s probably dangerous, though. That sword he’s got on him looks real fancy like too…’

She admired him a moment, but her thoughts were interrupted when Grasla charged, the other girls hopping out from their hiding places and beginning their attack. Ygritte stood up and shot an arrow, narrowly missing brown-eyes by a mere inch. Nocking and shooting again, she ended up hitting someone else.

Grasla was hit right in the side by her arrow, but Ygritte didn’t seem to care. She was more concerned about running. However, Jorvil and Thoya also lie dead. She said a silent prayer their souls may pass on to the next life safely, before she turned to go ahead and make a break for it.

Ygritte tried to run, but she was halted. Her arm was grabbed harshly, before finding herself on the ground. She tried to stand, but the older man kicked her down.  
“Kill her. We can’t have her causing any more trouble” The commander spoke. 

Ygritte looked up at the young man, who clutched his sword in his hand. It was clean-- he hadn’t killed any of the wildling band who had attacked. He had landed some hits at them, but it seemed he hadn’t spilled any blood.

“I think we should question her first” The young man spoke, seeming very hesitant to kill this young woman.

“What’s your name?” He asked, looking down at the fire-haired girl. 

She looked up at him in surprise, but she was also intrigued. Why was he bothering to ask her questions? What could someone like her even know that would be useful to him?

“Ygritte” She responded simply, her dark blue eyes meeting with his. “I gave my name, you should give yours”

“Jon Snow” He replied.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Burn the bodies” Ygritte spoke, looking at Thoya and Jorvil’s corpses.

“We’d need an awful lot of wood for that,” Jon glanced about, still holding the sword to her so she didn’t try and make a break for it.

“Why should we do that, Ygritte?” The commander spoke, putting harsh emphasis on the syllables of her name. Eee-gritt. Like it was completely alien. “Got friend’s about? They’re lookin’ for you, aren’t they”

“Burn the bodies or you’ll be usin’ that sword again” Ygritte responded, knowing that they very well those bodies could become wights if they weren’t properly disposed of. 

“What’s beyond here?” Jon asked. “Who were they?”

“A band of gals who can’t stand crows like you. Free folk” She replied, glaring. “Hundreds of thousands of free folk are beyond here. Some are more acceptin’ than others. Me, I’m not”

“What does your king want? Do you plan to march on the wall?” The commander asked her, getting angrier with every word. His bushy grey brows furrowed, his eyes bloodshot. 

“Oh, king? We don’t have one of those. I serve no king. I serve myself, and that’s it” Ygritte rolled her eyes at the thought of having a king. Having anyone tell her what to do was an absolute disgrace.

“Then why did they attack, girl?” The commander practically screamed at her, but the wildling remained unflinching. In a harsh environment like the one Ygritte lived in, one learned not to flinch in the face of fear and danger. Snow began to lightly fall, snowflakes beginning to coat the group’s jackets in a light powdering of snow.

“Revenge. You come here to our home-- no, invade our lands, and for what reason? To slaughter us!” Ygritte was getting heated now, her expression showing nothing but rage.

“Execute her, Snow” The commander kicked Ygritte to the ground once more. 

Jon took his sword and close his eyes, kneeling a moment. He was praying, just as his father had before he executed someone. He stood up and gripped the sword tightly. As he did, a pack of wolves were howling in the background.

“I, Jon Snow, brother of the night’s watch, son of Eddard Stark, sentence Ygritte to death” He spoke, raising the weapon. “Any last words?”

“Do it” Ygritte responded coldly, looking right into his eyes again. Her red hair blew like fire in the wind. She was ready to accept death, ready to die just as her mother had, through heartless murder. Jon raised the blade and began to lower it, ready to behead her.

Before longclaw could so much as graze her neck, Jon stopped. He couldn’t do this, this girl had to be only eighteen, a year younger than he. He had to spare her life, it was the least he could do when the Night’s Watch had killed thousands of free folk.

“Stand,” He said as he sheathed his sword. The girl was much shorter than him, standing at maybe five feet and three inches. He towered over her at six feet and one inch.

He wrapped a rope around her waist and hands. The commander looked at him in confusion.

“What’re you doing, Snow?” He asked, bewildered.

Jon looked back at him. “Well, she’s more use alive than dead. There’s probably more we can get out of her” He explained, looking to the wildling.

Ygritte said nothing. She was just shocked and confused. Why had he spared her life? What had she done to deserve this mercy from a crow? Maybe something was different about this Jon Snow. Something good.


End file.
